Battle Within the Armory: Zesiro Against the Giant Blade
A young pale girl sat on top of the huge metal dome in the center of the island. She carefully twirled a long steel needle in her hand. She was currently dressed in a black combat boots, black skinny jeans, and a black muscle shirt. Wherever her clothing didn't cover it was obvious she was scarred. Her chest wasn't large like most girls' were. She sighed as she put the thin needle onto the dome. She tied her long flowing black hair into a high ponytail.
She was fit and trim however. Lean and muscular. She stared out over the forest. She recalled her notes given to her by the old man. Hestas Nero or something. He was wearing a pure black business suit and had a steel cane with several jewels adorning it. 17 to be exact. He ordered her to kill Karasu Blackwell and make sure he never left the island. It was a simple order and she was just fine with doing it. Especially with the money offered to her 1 million belies. Despite the old man's frail appearance she was still freaked out by him. He ordered her to kill a man and had done so with a smile.
Oh, yeah, and then there was the fact that she wasn't the only one he hired. He hired someone else, too. A gunslinger with a blood red shirt with a big old bull's-eye on it. It didn't bother, her a little friendly competition was always a good thing.
Something rustled behind her, she grabbed the needle she had dropped onto the floor just minutes ago. She spun around with amazing accuracy and launched the needle. The needle lodged itself into it's target's throat just bare millimeters away from the jugular vein and an instant kill. The large bird that had startled her however still wasn't going to live.
The thin needle was coated in a neurotoxin. In a few seconds the bird will have died due to the fact that the nerves would shut down. It would be incapable of feeling a thing and more importantly the brain would die. Bye-bye birdie.
(-In the armory-)
Zesiro struggled to get back up. This maniac had a sword that could split him into and the strength to match. The first time since he started fighting the freak he got a good luck at him. He was definitely as big as Zesiro thought he was, maybe even bigger. He gulped, he hoped he wasn't. The man wore a simple muscle shirt and camouflage shorts. He wore camouflage painted combat boots on top of that. His face was round and chubby and he, too, much like all the maniacs in here, sported a crew cut.
Zesiro jumped back just in time to avoid another deadly blow from the giant blade. The blade was now inches in front of Zesiro. The blade was all weapon, no art. A pure silver sword that could a split a house. More importantly it was a weapon. Zesiro certainly wished he had one of those right now.
The huge sword came down like a boulder. The ground beneath Zesiro never even stood a chance. It was split down the middle. Worse then that the impact from the sword had sent a clean cut blast of wind howling down the halls and into a wall. The wall faced similar repercussions as the grounds a hole was blown into it.
Zesiro let out a heavy sigh. The sad thing was he considered himself lucky. One, he had managed to avoid two deadly blows from the sword. Two, the sword's shockwave was blunt it wouldn't cut him in two, just simply beat him up. Three, a huge collection of swords were four feet in front of him.
Sure he would've felt better if one, he had his two swords. Two, he wasn't facing someone who was strong enough to send a blunt air blast out with a simple swing of his sword. Heck, he'd feel better right now if he could just relax on the beach swim with little care. Maybe be with some friends while he was at it. Well, why not through the fact of him being a great swordsman while at it? That ship had already sailed anyways!
He was too distracted with his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed his opponent swing his colossal sword generating another blast of blunt air at him. He was thrown back. He collided with the previously damaged wall. Man, it felt as if his insides were being ripped apart. If he took another one of those and lived, he'd consider himself even luckier.
"Poor, poor, Zesiro," said the big man, "did you know you currently have a bounty exceeding 20 million? Its nothing to brag about…but its good chump change here in the East Blue." He lifted his sword where the blade touched the ceiling, he was crouching in order to do so. This guy's size was just immense! He brought the sword down and into the ground creating another vicious blast of air. Zesiro dodged to the side. He felt it barely engulf his foot, but it hurt like crazy all the same.
Zesiro got back up limping on his foot badly. Seems like this crew just doesn't keep very good care of their feet. Maybe instead of a regular doctor they sound just a foot doctor. He saw his opponent preparing another slash. His hands went instinctively to his waist and his empty sheaths. His face fell as he was reminded that he was missing his swords.
The armory was only a few feet away if he ran and dodged for his life he could probably pick up a pair of swords. Then he'd be ready to fight Biggo here! He took off towards the armory, he jumped to the side narrowly avoiding another compressed ball of air as it hurled past him blasting into another wall. The guy's recovery time was going to be poor with such a huge sword, he could get there without any problems. A measly three inches away from the swords he felt something tug on his leg and pull him through the air. Zesiro was thrown by the giant of a man. Crap, the big guy knew he wouldn't be able to slash him in time so he instead of grabbed him. He was so close, he could even smell the steel.
"Hey!" shouted Zesiro, "don't you have any moral code? You are not supposed to hit an unarmed opponent! Much less grab and throw him! We are swordsman, we live by the way of the sword! In order to do that we both need swords!"
"You mistook me fer a swordsman?" the big man laughed, he put his sword up against the wall and let it stand by itself. "The name is Dramand. And I ain't a swordsman," he said as he picked up a large mace from the arsenal, "I'm a weapons expert!"
"Heh…I think I preferred you with your sword," said Zesiro. The end of the mace was about as thick as Zesiro was tall. The numerous spikes protruding from it didn't make it seem any friendly either.
"Too bad," said Dramand, "I has tons of weapons and I'll mash you wit any one of them!"
"Got anything any thing normal sized in that arsenal?" asked Zesiro.
"It doesn't matter you won't live long enough to see any thing in there anyways," said Dramand. He swung the mace down into the ground with a tremendous force. The force of the slam sent a mighty shockwave exploding through the hall. Zesiro was knocked off of his feet. He knew immediately that he was at the mercy of Dramand for the next few seconds.
Dramand had already approached and had his mace in the air. Zesiro saw it. A way out and a possible a way to get his swords. He jumped up and back avoiding another deadly blow from the mace. The way was still obvious and he was surprised he hadn't seen it before. Then again should he do it, it is guaranteed to be disgusting. Another swing of the mace decided his mind for him. Disgusted versus dead…disgusted wins.
He dove at Dramand. This only caused a joyous and boisterous laugh from Dramand as he readied his mace. Zesiro dove and opened his mouth wide. He dug nearly all of his 96 teeth into the fleshy leg of Dramand. Dramand swung his leg forward and backward, at which point Zesiro let go and was hurled into the arsenal. The swords clattered noisily around him. He couldn't see the swords only thing that he could tell was that Dramand was getting closer and that was only from the thundering footsteps.
Zesiro reached and grabbed the first sword he found. He brought it up instinctively to block Dramand's ferocious mace. The sound of clashing steel snapped Zesiro out of it. He stood up and looked the blade over. A light blue hilt and a pure black blade. This blade was his. He looked down and saw his other faithful blade laying on the ground. He picked it up and examined the amazing gray hilt and red blade.
"Let's see if you can fight me when I got my swords," said Zesiro. "My bet is that you can't…at least not very well."
"I'll just have to prove you wrong then!" shouted Dramand as he brought his mace down with tremendous force and speed. Zesiro stood there one sword in his right hand fending off the mace.
"Are you still fighting with the same power?" said Zesiro, "I expected a harder fight." He lunged inwards and landed a quick and major blow. Blow spurted from Dramand's side.
"Punk," said Dramand as he grabbed his side, trying to hold the blood in. He threw the mace back into the arsenal and grabbed his sword. "I'll may not have been able to bash you, but splitting you is just as good."
"Your sword against my swords," said Zesiro, "I think I have the upper hand."
"No! It's your toothpicks against my blade!" said Dramand as he brought his sword down upon Zesiro. Zesiro dove forward avoiding the blade and driving his sword into Dramand's chest avoiding a lethal blow, but causing massive amounts of blood to spill out all the same.
Dramand picked his blade up and spun around again slicing the wall up with his power and his sword's edge. The blade skidded above Zesiro's head, slicing the air nothing more, not even a hair on Zesiro's head. Zesiro drove in, committing himself to the continuous dance-like movements of his swordplay. Each and every single slice and cut sent another wave of red blood spiraling from Dramand's body.
Dramand fell to one knee. He was already feeling the fatigue and pain that his massive blood loss was causing. He looked up at Zesiro, he made a weak slash with his sword at him. Its strength greatly diminished.
"I would like to play around with you a little more, but I'm probably running a bit low on time. I don't want my crew to worry about me," said Zesiro. He pointed his black blade straight out at Dramand. "Good bye." Zesiro unleashed a single slash slamming into Dramand's chest sending him sprawling to the floor. "I only used the back of blade…no reason to act so dramatic."
(-With Hiro-Shu-)
Hiro-Shu shook his head as he woke up out of his daze. The smoke was clearing and going away and the fires had started to die down. The first thing that was brought into his view was nothing. Zesiro left! He would say Mikoto had left, too, but really he wasn't too surprised about that.
Hiro-Shu was now debating on what to do. Would he even be able to catch up with either one of them? They already had a head start and both were naturally faster then him anyways. Then again Mikoto had to carry around Sage…at least he was supposed to carry around Sage. He'd better go and try to meet up with Mikoto. He was about to get running when he heard someone shout.
"Hey, Hiro-Shu!" shouted Zesiro as he came into view. Zesiro stopped right in front of Hiro-Shu. His entire body still hurt, but it was manageable no blood spurting everywhere, no broken bones (thankfully), only actual noticeable wounds were a bunch of bruises. "I hope I'm not late…had to pick something up." Zesiro took his sword out of his sheath and showed it to Hiro-Shu.
"Great, now we got two fifths of the crew together," said Hiro-Shu, "let's go see if we can get another two fifths."
"Mikoto left huh," said Zesiro. "As long as Sage is with him he shouldn't do anything to crazy."
"As long as Sage is with him," said Hiro-Shu. The two took off, knowing that that is just like something Mikoto would do with his half of a brain.
Sage. Alone and Broken. The Hatred that Burns Deep.
Bad news is coming. The first fight luckily ended up in favor of Zesiro. So, the crew is so far off to a good start. But since the Ridley left, Zesiro is battered, Hiro-Shu fought a giant rabbit, Sage's leg is broken, and Mikoto is…Mikoto, how will the rest of the crew fair? And is there a plot twist on the horizon read to find out! And of course DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!